Eyes of Fire
by NimbusWolsbane
Summary: Eyes of grey. That is the first thing I see in a thousand millennia. They stare at me quizzically, fascinated. There like beacons of hope in the pitch black that is all I know. I sense her power all around me; she is a goddess, a powerful one. She is the one. My savior.
1. Prologue - Eyes of Grey

**Prologue, Eyes of Grey**

Eyes of grey. That is the first thing I see in a thousand millennia. They stare at me quizzically, fascinated. There like beacons of hope in the pitch black that is all I know. I sense her power all around me; she is a goddess, a powerful one. She is the one. My savior. She is a god, one of the hated Olympians so I should spew every vile word in my diction. I was bred to decimate her kind after all, yet… I am curious. She is not frightened like the other Olympians. Her eyes are not narrowed with hate but wide with wonder. So I speak for the first time in an eternity.

"You are forbidden to enter my prison." My voice is a rasp after years of disuse. Her eyes study me

"I am on a quest, it led me here."

"It must be a deadly quest if it lead you to me. You know what I am capable of?"

"Naturally, I knew what you _**were **_capable of. Now you are just a mortal chained to a wall. You are no threat to me."

I purse my lips and reply.

"You know my name but I seem to be lacking yours."

She looks away.

"Athena, goddess of Wisdom."

"A goddess of wisdom, well at least you are no pig headed god of war." Her laugh echoes of the cavern walls. I smile and speak again.

"You probably haven't delved deep into the ocean just to talk to a mere mortal. What do you seek?"

"I am on a quest, a quest for knowledge. Tell me the one thing no one else will. Tell me your story…"

My eyes close, the memories of my life flash before my eyes, disconnected and vague. Lives of gods are not meant for Mortals to see. As if reading my thoughts Athena presses her hand to my forhed. Almost instantly something stirs inside me. Memories flood back. I open my eyes. For the first time since I began my punishment, my eyes are ablaze with fire. I am a god once more.

I struggle against chains but I know it is no use, even as a god I cannot escape my bonds. I stare into the gray eyes.

"My story is… only full of pain and sorrow. If I tell you my past I need something in return…"

"I cannot free you." She replies quickly.

"I do not ask that."

She stares at me for a moment. She finally nods.

"Swear it." I say "Swear it on the river Styx."

"I swear on the river Styx that after you tell me your story I shall do what I must do."

"Well then I shall begin…"


	2. Chapter 1 - The First Born

**Chapter 1 – The First Born**

My curse is simple yet effective. I am thrust upon a wooden post, the shaft of Kronos' Scythe to be exact. It is imbued with magic and history in its purest form. It saps all that I am from me, reduces me to a shadow of my former power. I am nothing but a mortal, weak by even their standards. Yet I see them, the bodies that haunt my dreams. They flash before me; contorted, mangled, lifeless – a never-ending cycle. The worst of it? I cannot distinguish friend from foe, nor the ones I loved from the ones I slaughtered.

When I am not asleep it is my prison that proved my undoing. Before me stretches a single path that leads to the only exit. An exit that is always locked. A lock that none bar an Olympian can open. Tartarus then lies beyond, an insatiable constant that millennia could not unravel. On either side of the path lies twin voids, windows into the world above. Through these I have watched the world decay, the humans spreading pollution, destruction and famine. They annihilate all wildlife and built their many metropolises. I failed and thus all Gaia foresaw has come to light.

Now I have burdened you with my afflictions let me share with you a concept: the concept of history. History is merely fluid prejudice, the accounts of the past victors have agreed on. It is augmented and twisted to suit those who hold the real currency of the world – power. If you need further evidence than I am more than happy to oblige. Richard III, the former king of a land known as England, what do you think of him? The playwright Shakespeare would have you believe him a tyrant, a murderer and cripple. Yet I have seen the truth. I saw no murderer, no creature of hate. I saw a just, fair king, a born warrior, the first into battle and the first to defend his people. But to appease his Tudor masters Shakespeare made him the villain he is thought to be today.

If you accept this then you must accept my next sentiment. History has been kind to the Olympians for they have written it. The Olympians are seen to be the embodiment of good and the Titans the embodiment of evil. But is this the truth? Or is it simply because we lost the war. Think on this before you call me a villain, think on this before you hear my story.

It all started with a dream. A vision seen by the Gaia herself, deep within the bowls of the earth. Not many thoughts can permeate each of the earth's layers, peel them back like an onion and delve deep into its center. But this was a powerful one; powerful enough to find Gaea and force it's way into her subconscious. This thought was meant to find Gaea for as she slept she saw the earth dwindle and die. Forests burned and the air turned thick and black. The greenery that once ruled was covered in man-made rock, not one corner left alive. Gaea saw her slow and painful demise and she saw the cause. Things known, as humans would do this to her world. Creatures created by the children of her most powerful son Kronos.

These humans, the ones that spread across the earth like a plague, were made in the image of the gods yet held none of the gods' compassion. Even the best of them were greedy, selfish and evil. They held no respect for nature, warring against themselves in a mad quest for the most impressive structures, the greatest armies and the most advanced machines. It was not the humans that would lose in the end but the purity of nature. Nymphs, Satyrs, Neriads and all creatures of nature would fade to nothingness. And what would the ancestors of Kronos do, the ones who professed to rule the heavens? Nothing. They would sit on their mountain, idle, blind and useless.

And thus Gaea stood at a crossroads; did she intervene and break one of the most archaic rules of the cosmos? Did she play with fire and risk an even worse fate befall the land she had created? Or did she let time run its course, un-tampered and whole. For you see no god, no matter what their power, knows completely if the future is set in stone. If all efforts are futile, useless and pathetic.

For many years Gaea dwelled on the visions, lost in an eternity of indecision. Yet it was Rhea, the wife of Kronos that forced her hand. For when she looked up to mount Othrys, searching for a new Titan, a new grandchild. She saw something new, something different. A being of raw power, the first of the Olympians she saw in her vision.

Now Gaea's hand was forced. She went to Kronos and whispered his deceit and lies. She told him of the wickedness and all she had seen. Countless times she sought him out and spun his web of duplicity. Yet Kronos, hungry for an heir would not submit to her ideals. So, in a last attempt to save the world she loved, Gaea went to Kronos on the day of his daughter's birth. Kronos' wife, Rhea, saw not a titan in her arms but of a being of a new nature. She saw a being of pure power, she chose however to believe her child would change the world for the better and bring about a much brighter future. Thus she named the girl Hestia, the fire of the homeland.

But Gaea knew the truth; just as the baby was handed too it's farther for the first time Gaea augmented his vision. Unlike his wife Kronos now saw the truth, not a god but a monster lay in his arms. Gaea opened his eyes and finally Kronos saw the future, the truth. He saw himself dethroned, stripped of all power. He saw his children slash him into infinite pieces and thrust him into the depth of Tartarus.

Gaea seized her chance and once more whispered into Kronos' ear. She told him to consume the child; she convinced him that doing so would spread its essence so thin it would cease to exist. But, this was not the case; Gaea knew that Kronos could only contain the child. She would study the creature, learn its strengths, weaknesses and most importantly find where its power stemmed from. She would also hope, hope that she had stayed the future. For nobody could imprison an Olympian forever.


End file.
